'The news of his unexpected death spread consternation at Agra. The despatches had been communicated to me and men crowded in to ask "Can it be possible?" One old judicial officer, who had been placed over the Government Press, entered abruptly and exclaimed "Tell me, it is not true." The reply was "Too true, I fear."
'His countenance fell. "Then my career is ended" he cried, and without a further word departed.
'Yes, Mr. Thomason was dead. The loss was ours not his. He had, to use Sadi's words, so lived that when the drum beat in the struggling light for striking the tent, he was ready for the march.
'A high-minded gentleman had disappeared, far-seeing, capable, industrious, not to be baffled by difficulties.
'But more: — he was an enthusiast, — an idealist — his heart was warm, his affections were sincere and constant, his friendship was not lightly bestowed, but tender and trusting where he gave it.
'And because he possessed these latter characteristics, — he was beloved!'
A meeting of the principal inhabitants, European and Native, was convened at Agra in the Metcalfe Hall. His career was eulogized by many speakers with the natural eloquence that wells up from full hearts, and steps were taken to establish a permanent memorial.
The Natives of northern India had not yet learnt the practice of public demonstration, and their sentiments regarding the void caused by his death may have been hard to gauge; but they have ever noticed the personal characteristics of their European rulers far more intently than is commonly imagined. And
